The Writing Life
One of the struggles of being an entrepreneur—at least it’s one of mine—is making time to work on the business. Working for the business always takes priority, and it’s no wonder. The “for” work pays the bills. The “on” work, however, is critical to getting the “for,” so…
[Read more…] about Are You Making Time to Work on Your Business?
Some days don’t start right. They sputter into being. The alarm clock chirps, leaving you wondering, “What is that noise? Oh. OH.” The stumble out of bed, the walk toward coffee or the closet to grab the running shoes.
I use old-fashioned to-do lists, i.e., pen and paper. There’s something infinitely more satisfying in writing the list by hand, crossing through things (often vehemently), crumpling the crossed-out list, and tossing it into the recycling bin. An online tool or the trash sound that my Mac makes doesn’t compare. I know. I’ve tried—which isn’t to say I don’t use the applications or empty the trash on my laptop. I do. They just don’t bring the same sense of accomplishment that pen and paper do.
I like to get things done. In fact, I’ve had complete strangers on Twitter ask me if I’m a #GTD person. Why, yes. Yes, I am.
The words “freelancer,” “solopreneur,” and “remote work” can conjure images of people sprawled on couches and beds. Clad in their pajamas, they’re busy at work on laptops and mobile devices. It’s three in the afternoon.
[Read more…] about Eleven Things I Learned by not Working in My Pajamas
Some days, the day runs away with you. A bandit, a thief, a villain. You’re carried off, blindfolded and gagged. Where did the day go? How did it put you in a black bag thrown over its shoulder?
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Time is running out. Time is running out.
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Everything is unfamiliar. Where on earth did the day take you in its mad dash? How do you find your way back when everything is strange, alien?
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For that matter, how do you get out of these bonds? They’re starting to chafe the ankles and wrists. Every move, a little more skin lost to wherever and whatever place this is.
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This is not what you signed up for.
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You calm down, note the details. This place isn’t all that foreign. You know it; it’s simply been altered by a lack of sleep and mounting worry, a to-do list that never seems to end. One thing crossed off, and two more jump to take its place.
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Time is running out.
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Focus. You know this place. You’ve been here before. Time isn’t original. It can’t make off with you to places of its own creation. It can only warp what already is. A time-warp, if you prefer. Something having to do with space, time, some sort of continuum.
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You stretch, realize you have the means to escape. A rock that’s started to send shooting pains into your hip bone, a pocketknife—where else?—in your pocket. A spoon and hourglass.
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Time really should pay more attention if it intends to run away with the day, you.
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You escape the ropes, grab the spoon glinting in the moonlight, and tip-toe behind Time. One jab, and it falls apart. You measure it, spoonful by spoonful, into the hourglass. Time has run out.
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It’s time to go. Time is running out, and you’ve got better things to do than let it run away with the day or you.
Image: Erik Fitzpatrick (Creative Commons)